


Dark Souls: The Recurrence of Sin (Request)

by InerrantErotica



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I, Dark Souls II, Dark Souls III
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19206115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InerrantErotica/pseuds/InerrantErotica
Summary: Throughout the ages, there has been a cycle of life and death, of fire and dark, love and scorn. A wheel that churns over the countless souls of undead. Among them, the Chosen Undead, the Bearer of the Curse, and the Ashen One. In each of their lifetimes, they have laid with a woman. The first sin which rippled throughout time unto perpetuity. Yet perhaps the cycle can be broken- with an end much as how began- with a betrayal.





	Dark Souls: The Recurrence of Sin (Request)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lewdsmokesoldier (http://www.hentai-foundry.com/user/Lewdsmokesoldier/profile) for requesting this piece and chatting with me a bit on Dark Souls lore and interpretation. This was another very fun piece. You should check out his writing too when you get the chance!

A kindled bonfire burned at the center of a clearing, giving succor and warmth to the lonely undead. The place was in ruins, like all of Lordran. The kneeling knight looked upon its flames through the cold featureless visage of his helm. He was weary, aching from the countless deaths that weighed upon his soul. It would soon be over, for all the undead… As the kingseeker promised. He need only press on... unto death again and again, for as many a misery as it took.

The knight left the comforting fire, descending from Firelink shrine beneath a hollowed out dead tree, down towards the sunken city of New Londo. He had made the journey many times to his demise before.

“Chosen Undead!” A voice called out to him.

The knight turned to look upon the Firekeeper imprisoned beneath the shrine. Anastacia held onto the cold iron bars of her cell, her blue eyes peering out from loose strands of blonde hair coming out from her bun and over her face, “Forgive me…”

She was dressed in dingy robes, once white and pure like a maiden’s… now grey and covered in soot from an eternity beneath the pyre. Her features were sad and melancholy, yet with the embers of sincere hope burning in her azure blue eyes.

Anatascia was often silent, even after being restored her speech. Yet now, upon seeing the knight leave for yet another venture into the harrowing ruins below, something compelled her to speak up.

The man approached as she mumbled, “T’wards the Abyss you must go? The path of Artorias… to seek the Lords’ souls and link the fire.”

The knight nodded as he stepped up towards the cell, wrapping his gloved fingers around the bars.

“I have not thanked you enough for restoring my life to me.” She closed her eyes, “Though I am unclean… and my tongue impure.”

“You musn’t falter, Chosen Undead!” The Firekeeper begged, “I understand the path ahead of you is cruel and uncaring but… You must undo our curse.”

She reached out through the bars of her prison cell, planting a delicate and warm hand on the cold steel of his helm. Her other went to his glove… slender fingers wrapping around his own, clad in thick leather. “To die again and again… only to return here. Tis’ a great burden you shoulder, I know.”

“But know this… when death next takes you...” Anastacia stepped closer, “I will await you here.”

The knight reached out through the bars, stroking her cheek in his palm. “Perhaps I could be of some use.” The firekeeper murmured, “If ever you feel yourself going hollow… think back to this place.”

Her hand drifted down from his helm, over to worn blue tabard… she found herself by his waist then, idly tugging at the knight’s belt. The woman undid his belt and the other straps, one by one. Never did her eyes stray from looking upon him through the thin visor of that cold helm. Her eyes were bleary and glimmering from the irritant ash that so adorned her cell.

His belt fell to the ground, though there was still the outer robes, chainmail, and some plate separating the two… none of which were as forbidding as the iron bars of her cell. Anastacia reached under his chainmail tunic and up to the hem of his pants. She pulled his trousers down as far as they could go, down to his knees where his heavy iron greaves began. So much remained obscure beneath the veil of iron linked armor…

The firekeeper pulled it aside without looking- reaching in and wrapping her warm fingers around his length. She began to gently massage him, stroking him… granting him an intimacy and a pleasure that had long been denied to undead. The woman closed her eyes, feeling his arousal mounting in her hands. Her warmth became his, and in turn she felt the heat and strength of a man contained there in his most intimate places.

The firekeeper could feel him stiffening in her grasp. She began to pleasure him, running her fingers along his shaft. There was a desirous neediness to her movement… almost awkward in its excitement. She remained in denial of her own lusts… but her anxiousness stemmed instead from the need to encourage and console the man before her. The man who would free her and everyone else. She gave her tongue and her legs and her life for her duty once before- she would do it again if asked. It wasn’t like she was a pure maiden either…

Anastacia slowly descended to her knees, drawing her pale blue eyes upon the knight’s cock in her hands. “If it would ease the weight upon you, sully me... make use of my impure tongue and pour into me all of your burdens, Chosen one.”

She closed her eyes and leaned forward, pressing her cheeks against two of the cold iron bars… and embracing the warmth of his member into her mouth. Her lips formed a seal around him, but it was far as she could go. He would have to move on his own, drawing his hips back and forth to take from her the carnal pleasure she offered.

Clutching at the bars harder, the man began to slowly rock his body… His armor softly scraped against the metal rods of her prison as Anastacia softly sighed and welcomed him within her inviting mouth. The thick veins of his cock pressed between her lips, endowed with a passion and desire that had long ached to be fulfilled.

He groaned in relief, his muffled voice echoing within that cold steel helm.

The firekeeper reached out through the bars, clutching at his legs and hips- pulling him in as much as she could. As if to consume him, to take everything from him that was woeful and impure and imbibe it herself. Anastacia happily moaned over his cock, muffled as those little vocalizations were. She felt him drawing nearer and nearer to climax.

At last, she thought, her impurity could be put to use… coaxing from this man, her saviour, his every pent up desire. Anastacia drew away only as long as it took to speak. “Sully me.” She urged, “I am yours to disgrace.”

In that moment of sublime selflessness and deceit, she rolled her tongue up along the base of his shaft… and he came- filling her mouth hot and wet and full. His fingers squeezed tight on the bars above her- as her delicate nails dug into the flesh of his thighs. She felt his seed coursing powerfully through his thick shaft before it came out onto her tongue and along the back of her throat. Anastacia took it all so lovingly. She felt so glad to be of use to him, in whatever small part it was, for the sake of her and everyone else’s salvation.

Without complaint the firekeeper swallowed every drop of his seed, until he was spent completely and had nothing left to give. She drew away, a dribble at the corner of her lips.

She pulled his trousers back up for him and looked away, furtively covering her mouth as she knelt beneath the knight. When she stood and turned her head back to him, her lips were clean.

“Forgive me.” Anastacia said, looking down and averting her gaze, “Tis all I can do from here.”

 

He relaxed his fingers around the iron bars and took a step backwards.

“Remember, if ever you fear going hollow- think back to this place.” She offered, “Know that I shall await thee here as I await your triumph.”

“May you enjoy serendipity…” Anastacia managed a weak smile, “-and may the Age of Fire perpetuate forever.”

...

The Emerald Herald stood for a long time at the entrance to the long bridge leading to the Throne of Want. It was a dark and foreboding place, covered in ash with nary a soul alive to welcome the next sovereign. A cavern passageway to an underground throne. Hardly the place for a coronation...

She had said everything that had needed to be said, done all that was be done for him- for the next sovereign. The choice was his now… to link the flames and begin this whole cycle anew… or to rule in darkness.

Borne of dragons, contrived of men, Shanalotte had no place in this world anymore. Her journey was complete.

Now she was free… and she hadn’t a clue what to do with herself now that she had been so surreptitiously unshackled from fate.

The woman closed her eyes and inhaled through her nostrils, appearing like such a delicate flower of a girl amidst within such a dreary ash-covered cave. She contemplated her place in this dying world for a long time… until footsteps seized her attention and she looked back towards the dim path leading to the Throne of Want. Her bangs covered one eye as the other narrowed upon the familiar figure of the next sovereign. A man in Faraam armor, with white fur and light blue robes over steel plating… he still yet held great power in him.

“Bearer of the curse…” She greeted him, her voice low and husky, “You have refused the throne then?”

She closed her eyes and softly laughed, “So be it. You seek to end the curse then… and leave the fire for another to link or smother.”

After a long pause, the Emerald Herald opened her eyes and wryly smiled, “Very well.”

Together, they left that cold and dark ashen place.

“Bearer…” She murmured as they passed through the abandoned corridors of Drangleic castle, “Or should I say… my King?”

The silent sentinels guarding the castle all bowed in obeisance at their passing. The place was still so dark and empty, the hollow shell of a once great palace.

“It is for want of desire that a man goes hollow.” She confessed as they walked in tandem, “Those who succumb to despair and surrender… are just the same as those who see their every whim fulfilled. No doubt you have seen it, among the crestfallen and the contented.”

“Tell me, my King… what will you strive for?” After a moment of tranquil silence, she brushed aside her hair and confessed the truth, “I must contemplate this myself.”

Their journey eventually took them back to the sunset township of Majula, that lonely and deserted place on the edge of the world. They descended a path down towards the stone marking the Company of Champions, a solitary and secret place where few ever pry. They stood at a cliff face, gazing out into the vast ocean. The waves gently roiled against the rocky shore far below. The gentle breeze brushed Shanalotte’s hair out of her face, revealing her brown and purple heterochromatic eyes. She turned back to the knight, “Have you found something to strive for, my king?”

She sheepishly smiled, “...I have.”

The Emerald Herald threw back her hood and reached out her hand, “It is you, bearer of the curse.”

The woman stepped forward, brazenly, planting her hands upon the man’s breastplate. She looked up at him, into her sovereign’s eyes. “A king, even one without a throne, has need of a queen… and I quite like the idea of being yours.” Through her auburn bangs peered back him a pair of eyes brown and purple, mesmerizing and alluring, ancient and naive.

“Bearer of the Curse… Let me ease your burden.” She huskily cooed, easing him onto the ground- upon a bed of soft grass. The Emerald Herald straddled his thighs, running her hands down his body and to his pants. She reached inside, feeling for the first time a man in all his glory… it pleased her, and the Emerald herald sat upright on her knees, pulling aside her lower robes- revealing her pale naked thighs and sex, adorned with a petite tuft of brown hair, “A throne fit for a queen...”

She wrapped her fingers around the knight’s length and angled him up- until his cockhead rubbed against her wet womanhood. With a small bit of exertion and a sudden give, he entered her. It was tight and unyielding, hot and gripping. The woman Shanalotte was virginal in body and experience yet not so in spirit or desire. She descended upon him, filling herself with his manhood. She threw her head back with a happy sigh as she took every inch in stride, “Bearer…”

Like a noble lady giving a curtsey, she held out the fabric of her robes in one dainty hand out to the side. The knight looked down to see his length disappear within her. He put his hands out to her hips, hard steel and leather depressing gentle pale womanflesh.

Shanalotte rolled her hips back and forth, letting out a moan as she started grinding her sex into his groin, wettening it in her pleasure. She let her robes fall loose and bent over, planting her hands upon her king’s chest. The cold steel breastplate was a poor substitute for the intimacy of a naked lover’s touch… but they were already joined in a most carnal fashion. His armor instead provided her all the stability she needed to brace upon him, to put her weight upon it and focus instead on her hips. The Emerald Herald pushed down as hard as she could, her lover cushioned by the metal… and she began to lift up her body and slam it back down upon him.

She closed her eyes and lost herself to the rhythmic bouncing. Her movements grew more desirous and aggressive as the woman gave in to her passions. Her robes obscured their intimacy, as if they had remained completely clothed… though they moved in such lurid ways.

She lowered her gaze down upon the knight beneath her. He reached up and brushed aside her auburn hair, revealing the young woman’s violet eye… a hint, perhaps, of her draconic lineage. It looked upon him with tender awe exactly in tandem its honey brown pair. “Bearer… do you feel it?” She cooed, “Are you drawing near? Will you fill me?”

“Go on then.” She gently urged as the pleasure mounted and built within him, “Fulfill your desires. Strive, Bearer, strive and don’t stop.” She started bouncing up and down harder on his hard manhood, her rear end slapping on his thighs. His cock stiffened and throbbed within her, building up towards a monumental climax, ”Take what is yours, sovereign… and make me your queen. Strive!”

With a sudden release of pent up tension and ravenous desire, the knight let go in a moment of orgasmic bliss. Reaching up to grab her hair, he brought Shanlotte’s head down to his chest with a groan, squeezing her behind with the other hand. With everything between them, he desired only to be as close as he could to her. His manhood convulsed within her, pumping his seed into her womb. His hips moved on their own, lifting her up off the ground as their mixture dripped down his length and onto the soft grass beneath. He felt her clenching on him as well. Waves of pleasure radiated through his whole body, seizing him in uncontrollable contractions of ecstacy.

At last… their pleasures receded, leaving the two lovers in a serene embrace by the windswept cliff face. Together, they looked out over at the vast ocean stretched out beyond Drangleic.

“What could possibly await us now?” The Emerald Herald murmured as she gradually felt him softening within her, letting more and more of his seed ooze out onto their clothes, “Beyond the throne… beyond the fire. We must seek it, insatiably… Such is our fate.”

“Bearer of the curse...”

...

From the bonfire at the center of Firelink shrine emerged a figure in sooted armor and haggard cloth. The unkindled ash of a knight who once failed to link the flame. He looked over at the thrones before him… the font of his trials. A frail and furtive figure rested atop one- half a man, burnt alive and awaiting his fate. Only cinders lay upon the others. Them, like this shrine and the rest of the world, was just a hollow ghost of what it once was.

He turned away from the fire, only to find himself alone. The familiar ringing of an anvil still echoed down the long corridor. All those who depended upon him, all those summoned here to serve him… save the most important one. The once comforting and familiar figure of the Firekeeper… absent from her place of duty. 

Outside the shrine, looking out into the vast expanse of grey mist-covered lands, lingered the object of his search. She stood with her hand upon the tree in the shape of a giant. She felt its warmth, the echoes of life that once stirred within it. Gone, like so many before… nearly entirely forgotten. She passed it by, walking up the stony stairs towards a tower and drifting towards the cliff face. Blinded as she was, the vast misty-covered mountains and the ruins of Lothric looming above were lost on her. All that remained was a gentle breeze upon the wind.

She was a pale woman in a black and grey dress, pale silvery blonde hair, long and braided down to the small of her waist. Her features lay hidden behind an ornate jeweled veil which covered the top of her face.

Some time passed… and the woman felt a presence behind her, powerful and comforting and alarming... 

“Ashen one.” She whispered, turning on her heel and facing him, “Forgive me for going astray.”

She lowered her head as she spoke, “I have been in contemplation. Of the eyes thou hast bestowed upon me- the visions I saw of thy grand betrayal. The end of fire.”

“I thought myself drawn into a vast and terrible darkness, seduced by its thin light. I begged thou kill me… and remove from me these terrible eyes not meant for a firekeeper to possess.” The woman stepped away, approaching the edge of the cliff, “But thou’st refused. I know not why.”

“Is this end thy true wish… or my own? It can’t be so. Tis’ too much for a simple firekeeper to decide.” She turned around as the knight approached, his boots falling heavy and cold upon the stone.

“If I perish o’er the edge, I will return to you as the Firekeeper I once was.” The woman said, taking another step back, “Yet these eyes will be lost and with them, our traitorous scheme.”

“Ashen One, tis’ thy burden alone to decide. Suffer not this simple firekeeper to sway you.” She leaned her head back and spread her arms… against the wind, her body began to fall backwards, drifting towards the edge of oblivion… until she was caught at the edge of the cliff face and pulled back onto land by the cindered knight.

She awaited his choice… awaited her death, knowing that it would come if he so desired to deny her the choice. When he refused and relaxed his grip, she nodded.

“Ashen one.” The firekeeper whispered, “So thy wish is sincere. Of course. Now, as ever, I serve thee- to the very end. An end to this cycle… if ever it can be so.” She slowly spoke, “Perhaps this time it shall be different. A terrible darkness, yes… but what lay beyond could be something worth striving for.”

She leaned forward, resting her head against the man’s breast as he pulled her away from the cliff. His movements were decisive and domineering. A horrible thought gnawed at the edge of her awareness.

“Shrink not from the dark and not from thy foes, Ashen One. If thou seeketh to carry the flame on in thine own breast and seeketh ember... another firekeeper will be summoned to serve another champion- and so shall the cycle go on forever more.”

The woman reached up, resting her hands upon gently upon his neck, letting him feel the warmth.

“In ancient times, a firekeeper offered herself in body to help link the fire, seducing an undead for her own purposes. So too did a herald assume the mantle of queen… for a sovereign without a throne. Now I wish to offer myself to you in earnest, Ashen One. To seal the covenant of our grand betrayal… Lest we betray one another.”

She lowered her hands and turned back to the expanse of nothingness stretched out towards the horizon, “Dost thou have the will to bring on the end? ...then take from this body all that thy desire. Afterall, tis’ not a cruelty to dispose of a firekeeper- to use or to break her. Tis’ only cruel to deceive her.”

The woman put her hands upon her thighs and lowered her head. The knight slowly pushed her by the shoulders until she bent over, her pale silvery blonde hair falling over her face. He reached low, grabbing a fistful of her dress and throwing it up over her waist, revealing a pale woman’s legs and bottom. She was completely nude beneath the elegant robes, her skin a startling contrast to the dark fabric. The man ran his cold metal gauntlets over her gentle flesh, squeezing her behind and looking it over in desire. His hands left her only so long as they needed to reach under his own chainmail…

The firekeeper lifted her chin up, basking in the dim sunlight as she felt him stirring behind her. A moment later, the unkindled knight threw his hands forward and clutched her by the waist. She was pulled back into him, stumbling a few steps so that she had to brace herself. The woman felt him probing at her most intimate of entrances…

She felt a sharp pain as he entered, a pressure eased only by the masochistic comfort she took in pleasing her champion. He was so hard that she could barely offer any resistance at all. His cock pushed its way deep within her, filling her womb with its hard warmth. She grimaced and strained at the exquisite agony. It was a covenant sealed in pain… as she was well accustomed to.

The knight brusquely held her waist, keeping her in place as he drove himself into her. The firekeeper’s body rocked, her hair swaying as she pursed her lips and groaned from the exertion. He went on faster, slapping his hips against her snow-white behind with every thrust. She was hot and tight… almost unyielding. Bunching two handfuls of her dress in his hand, he pulled her in after every hard slam sent her body reeling away. She was utterly powerless… completely at his mercy.

The sound of their fornication rose up into the air, drifting out into the vastness. The both of them groaned, almost as if in pain. It came to a head when the knight’s rapid violent thrusting gave way to deep long pushes- he drove himself as hard as he could, making her stumble forward to the edge of the cliff. He stepped with her, struggling to close with as much of her as he possibly could in the moments before his climax. His fingers wrapped around her braided hair, bunching it up and pulling on it until her head was jerked backwards.

The firekeeper clawed at her own thighs with her nails and let out a moan. She felt him filling her with his seed… emptying himself within her. The woman moaned at the thought of being so callously used- to be rendered as nothing more than a font for his sinful desires. To be left so full of his writhing seed in her womb. He groaned and bent over, his grasp weakening… then turning into an affectionate embrace.

He held her for a long time as she felt his ardor and passion drain from him… she turned around, her dress falling back over her body.

“Ashen one.” The firekeeper whispered, her voice barely a whisper, “Thou seeketh to unshackle me from the flame… yet of all the things I could wish for, I desire only to be in thy thrall for this- our secret betrayal.”

“Shrink not from the dark.” She begged, clutching at him hard, “Seeketh not embers… but the end as I have been shown…

...For it is only in darkness that thou may have me forever more.”


End file.
